


got a fire but you just can't use it

by stalinlovesyou



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Pining, Slow Burn, and a little stupid, and they absolutely share a bed, because i am a soft idiot lesbian, theres a jeep, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stalinlovesyou/pseuds/stalinlovesyou
Summary: Katya gets back from rehab, and they figure some things out.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have been ruminating in feelings and thinking about these two idiots, and this happened. Thank you to [beanie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanierose/pseuds/beanierose) for providing invaluble beta services, and responding to my desperate cry for help. Title from Winds Change by Orville Peck, because I have experienced a recent and dramatic love for his music. Enjoy!

When Katya comes to greet her, all Trixie’s thoughts about her eyeliner being smudged are immediately wiped from her mind. All she can do is look at Katya. She checks her cheeks and arms to see if she's been eating properly since Trixie last saw her, feels her eyes linger on her lips, her collarbone, her exposed belly button. Trixie pulls her into an embrace, slouching slightly so she can sling her arms around Katya’s waist. 

“Hi, hello, hi, my dear,” Katya says into Trixie’s hair. “I have missed you quite a lot, and I love you.”

“You fucking homo,” Trixie responds, squeezing tighter around her waist. Katya’s cropped shirt is rising up above the line of her pants and Trixie loses a beat focusing on the feel of her skin. They separate, and Trixie grabs Katya’s hand, lacing their fingers together. She looks right into Katya’s eyes and smiles, she can’t stop smiling. 

“So, how’s it going?” Trixie asks.

“Me?” Katya responds. She left for rehab six months ago. They talked on the phone towards the end - Trixie is on her list of people to apologize to - but they haven’t been in the same place in months. Haven’t been good for even longer. Katya looks her right in the eyes, “I’ve been thinking about your tiddies. Those giant, heavy, melon-sized, honkers on your chest.” 

“Yeah? My tits are what got you through rehab? These tits?” She says, grabbing them and moaning ridiculously. Katya is wheeze-laughing.

“No, they didn’t help me, I couldn’t see them,” Katya says between laughs. She drops the pitch of her voice to add, “But I thought of them every night while they electrocuted me back into sanity.”

Trixie blushes at the thought of Katya lying in the dark thinking of her, but barrels on. “Are you saying you now have a Pavlovian response to the thought of my tits? Wow girl, I thought they sent you to rehab to make you better, not turn you into an even bigger lesbian.”

“Oh my gawd,” Katya squeals, and then drops back into a rasp. “They’ve cured me, Maureen, I don’t think of tiddies at all anymore. Except on Tuesdays, and Thursdays, and other days that end with y. See, I’m all better!” She adds in her normal voice, twirling. 

“Oh good, then that lizard you burnt in 2014 will truly be the last one? Because if they weren’t working to get rid of your obsession with the ooky-spooky, then what has this all been about?”

“You mean the one I burnt with fire?” Katya asks, “I burnt her outside. I had a magnifying glass and a -”

“You’re going to see that lizard in hell,” Trixie says, cutting her off. She knows the story already, but she needs a subject she knows how to navigate. She feels off kilter with the excitement of having Katya really be here.

“It was already dead!” Katya’s protesting now, “It’s not like I committed reptile-murder-” but Trixie is already talking over her.

“Reptile murder? Honey, the only reptile I’m murdering is the one in my dad’s pants. Honey? Oh Honey!” and then they’re both cackling, clutching each other, turning heads at the sheer volume. 

They’re standing on the sidewalk where the bus dropped Katya off. When they talked earlier this week, they made the plan: Trixie would come get Katya when she was released. It made sense because Trixie was the one who had the spare keys to Katya’s apartment, and she would be able to get Katya’s Jeep. The fact that Katya trusted her to be the first person she saw had made Trixie fall asleep smiling for an entire week.

“I can’t believe you would have the gall, the audacity, to oh-honey me at this juncture,” Katya says, calming down. Trixie’s belly squirms with the joy of getting the exact response she expected. “I hate you so much.” Katya continues, and Trixie thinks that maybe she didn’t have anything to be afraid of. She knows this new version of Katya just as well as she knew the version before. 

They walk to the car together, Katya skipping ahead, chattering and turning back every few seconds to look at Trixie who is trailing behind with the bags. When they get to the Jeep, she loads them into the back. Katya climbs in the driver's seat, grumbling as she adjusts the seat back to fit her. When Trixie had driven it here she had had to scoot it back nearly a foot to fit underneath the steering wheel. 

“That’s what happens when you go crazy and abandon me here all alone.” Trixie says, watching her adjust the mirrors. Katya just rolls her eyes as she confidently pulls them out of the parking lot.

“I missed you so much,” Trixie says as they pull onto the freeway, heading towards Katya’s apartment in West Hollywood. It’s weird to have Katya be the one driving. Recently it’s been Trixie – not because she likes it, but because Katya was oddly resistant. Now Trixie knows it’s because Katya was not in a condition to be ‘operating heavy machinery’. 

It makes more sense with Katya behind the wheel. Trixie has always liked being able to look out the window and take pictures, or to check her makeup in the mirror behind the sun visor. They have been known to have their best conversations in the car, and Trixie likes being able to focus on Katya, instead of having to watch the road. Likes to catalogue each change in her demeanor. 

“Ugh, gross” Katya says, retracting her head back, but she turns just for a breath to make eye contact so Trixie knows she’s just fucking around. 

Trixie shifts in her seat. “No, you don’t understand” she says, suddenly desperate to make Katya feel what it was like for Trixie. “I missed you, and I worried about you. Every day I wondered if you were going to be okay, or if it was too late. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, and everyone kept asking me if you were okay, and I just didn’t know how to answer them.” She feels guilty telling Katya all of this thirty seconds into seeing her for the first time in months, but she can’t stop herself. “I am just so glad you are okay now,” she adds, turning to look at her. 

“I’m never gonna just ‘be okay,’” Katya responds after a moment, uncharacteristically serious. The side of her face is tense, and some of her eyebrow hairs are brushed backwards.

“Then I’m glad you’re here,” Trixie amends. “I was so scared. I used to lay awake, and every time you didn’t respond to a text I would think about you disappearing or dying or something awful happening.” 

“It still might,” Katya says carefully. She only gets like this sometimes, but it always makes Trixie feel too clumsy for the delicate world Katya is letting her peek into.

Trixie huffs. “I know that, I’ve been your friend for a long time. I’m just really proud of you.” She is annoyed, both with herself for not being able to handle this properly, and with Katya for thinking Trixie isn’t paying attention. Normally Trixie would let it go, and the conversation would move back into familiar territory, but today feels different. Trixie did her homework, listened to Katya and called old friends from Wisconsin who could help explain it a little better, and she wants Katya to know. The car is silent. 

“I’m not stupid you know. I care about you a lot, and I know that this stuff isn’t a straight line. Maybe I will never really understand what you went through, but I’m just really happy to have you back,” Trixie says, after a moment. For all that she isn’t able to understand about Katya, Trixie doesn’t think that Katya will ever know what it was like for Trixie. 

Katya looks at her for a long moment, long enough that Trixie has a fleeting worry that they are going to crash the car. But then Katya makes a noise of exaggerated disgust, and the moment disappears. “You are such a fucking homo. I know you care about me. You rotted, disgusting, nasty, okey-smokey dyke. You really should have abandoned me years ago.”

Trixie lets her dispel the solemn mood. She knows Katya is made uncomfortable by anything sincere, but she hopes Katya understood at least part of what she was trying to say. It’s important that Katya knows that Trixie is here for her, but she doesn’t have to harp on it if Katya isn't in the mood to hear it. 

“But you promised I could live in your basement! Where will I go now? You know my dad won’t take me.” She looks at Katya, who opens her mouth to race her to - “Just kidding I don’t have a dad!” Trixie finishes as Katya is yelling “I thought you didn’t have a dad!” And they’re laughing wildly at their shared joke. The tension is shattered, and they move on.

Katya starts a story as Trixie rolls down the window, fiddling with her phone in her hand and trying not to stare at the side of Katya’s face. She’s talking about the ghosts in her basement, saying that Trixie will just have to learn to live with men. Trixie can’t tell if she’s joking, but she isn’t really listening anyways. She can see where Katya’s foundation meets her ear, and where she smeared it a bit onto the lobe. Katya is wearing dangly cigarette earrings, and one is hanging a little crooked. 

Before too long they’re off the freeway. The radio is playing some pop hit from this year that they both hate but know every word to, and they’re yelling the words out the window. Katya is trying to remember the Russian version, but she keeps mixing up the words. Trixie almost wishes that she put her hair into braids today – instead of teasing it into something ridiculous and huge – because it’s flying all around the car, and sticking to her lipstick. She got a little caught up in getting ready this morning, nervous about seeing Katya, and secretly, maybe, wanting to impress her. It was worth it for the way that Katya’s eyes lingered on her hemline when she put the bags into the trunk earlier, so she supposes it doesn’t really matter if she gets a little mussed. This is Katya, not some girl she’s trying to seduce into liking her. 

The sun is just setting by the time they get home, and Katya pulls the Jeep into a parking space outside her apartment. Trixie climbs out, smoothing her dress down. She looks over at Katya bathed in the orange light. Katya tilts her head in question, and Trixie responds, “You look good, girl,” before grabbing the bag out of the trunk. 

Katya pitches her voice up high and nasally “It’s golden hour, and it’s just really important that I get my best light for the photo shoot with my smoothie you know?”

They walk to the door, and Trixie hands Katya her keys. She can feel the smile on her face, but she can’t do anything to stop it. She feels like she’s careening down a canyon, waiting to crash and burn, but enjoying the sensation of flying while she can. 

“You better have kept my plants alive.” Katya threatens, keying open the door and flicking on the light. 

“Bitch, you know I can’t keep plants alive, I ain’t no witch. I’m not you.” Trixie responds, setting the bags in the entry. Katya is laughing at Trixie’s joke as she walks into her apartment, turning on lights, and touching everything. Trixie is standing in the doorway, watching. 

“It smells different,” Katya says, turning to face Trixie. They hold eye contact, both aware that Trixie is the only one who has been here since Katya left. Before Trixie can figure out a response, Katya walks into her kitchen and gets a glass, fills it with water and walks over to flop onto the couch. 

It isn’t until Trixie joins her that she starts to feel ridiculous. She put on a whole face of makeup that was all sharp angles and bright colors, and she’s wearing a new outfit. Suddenly it feels too obvious. Katya knows exactly how long it takes her to do her hair and makeup. It’s not something she always does. She has her butch clothes too, of course she does, and she likes the way she looks in flannels, face bare, hair braided, just as much as when she’s teetering in heels and big hair. Katya always tells her that it’s obvious she is a whole dyke either way, _c’mon Trix no straight woman would wear go go boots, glitter and eyeliner the size of a small country_ , but Trixie likes to drive her lesbianism home with pink acrylic nails: all long except for the first two. It’s the only thing she carries across every look. Just in case.

She swallows down the sudden vulnerability and kicks off her heels, sits down next to Katya. There’s something lingering in the air, and Trixie is nervous. She’s not ready for the conversation. The one they have been skirting around for years.

“What?” Katya asks, and Trixie’s stomach bottoms out. She averts her eyes, worried that Katya can read her mind. “Why are you making that face?”

“What face?” Trixie responds. She’s suddenly grateful for the layer of protection her makeup provides. “Can you even tell what face I’m making?” 

Katya lets her deflect. “Your beat is especially psycho today,” she says, laughing at her. 

Trixie knows, she could feel it getting away from her as she sat in front of her mirror earlier. She wanted it to be perfect, but before long she had applied way more than she meant to, had to cover up her shaky lines with purple glitter. 

“I call this my ex-boyfriend's makeup because it got away from me,” Trixie says, and then lets out a scream-laugh. Katya is looking at her and grinning, her perfect white teeth on display. 

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“You don’t know what I like!” Trixie says, leaning into Katya’s space before lowering her voice “Maybe I like having sex with men. The beard burn? Ohhh yeahh.” She’s moaning, and Katya is shying away from her.

“Ewww!” She shudders before looking directly up at Trixie. “Men,” she says, and then starts cackling wildly at her own joke.

“You are so stupid. Is that all you have to add?” Trixie realizes that she has Katya pressed against the couch, and quickly shifts off her. 

“Men are yuck, mama. I don’t know what else there is to say. They smell weird, and they’re all pointy, and-

“Remember when we met?” Trixie cuts her off.

To her credit, Katya takes the shift without losing a beat. “You mean when you walked in my house, this insane explosion of pink and girl, girl, girl, and turned out to be a totally psycho diesel dyke?” 

“Yeah, I remember you had bangs then, and your hair was lighter, and I thought you were so pretty.” Trixie says. Katya’s head snaps up. She knows Trixie thought she was pretty when they first met. They’ve talked about it, just never _talked_ about it. “That party was so fun!” 

“Yeah,” Katya says, thinking. “That was - wait, was that the night that…” She trails off. 

“That what?” Trixie’s heart is beating fast again. That party was important to her. They clicked so fast, and spent all night trying to outdo one another coming up with increasingly horrifying things to say, until everyone else had gotten tired of them.

“Nevermind,” Katya responds. The conversation dies for a moment, and the silence hangs heavily between them, until Katya throws out another topic that they can both latch onto. There are still tendrils of awkwardness in the air, like they’re skirting around a third presence in the room, but it isn’t unfamiliar, and they handle it with ease, carefully sidestepping when they creep too close to it.

It isn’t until later that night that Trixie decides to stay over. They didn’t plan on it. They don’t do sleepovers often, and in the light of day, it seemed like a tall order for Katya fresh out of rehab. Even on a good night she rarely sleeps, is always up at strange times drawing or sewing or chain-smoking and writing. When she does go to bed, she kicks and mumbles all night, hates sharing a bed. But neither of them seem willing to let go tonight. Trixie is always insisting that she doesn’t care, insists that Katya isn’t bothering her, _I swear, I sleep so heavily_ , and tonight it seems like Katya believes her. 

Katya gives Trixie her biggest flannel, before turning to change into an oversized white t-shirt. Trixie tries not to stare at the shadow of Katya's nipples under the shirt as she walks over to the bed and climbs in. Katya wiggles into Trixie’s space until her back is pressed against Trixie’s front. Trixie loops her arm over Katya’s waist. Her shirt is rucked up and Trixie can feel the soft skin of Katya’s stomach, right under her boobs. She wrinkles her nose at the lingering smell of cigarettes in Katya’s hair, but if she really focuses she can smell something else under it. Something soft and clean. 

It takes her back to that one night in Boston. The only time they came truly close to discussing the thing between them. She wanted Katya so bad that night. She could feel Katya’s eyes on her like a physical weight for hours, until she just caved and insisted they share the bed.

They were lying there, face-to-face in the dark, when Katya had leaned over and whispered, “You know I can’t let you go to sleep without kissing you.” 

So they’d kissed and Trixie felt part of her heart leak out of her chest and into Katya’s. She knew that she had to shut it down right then. She couldn’t let Katya have sex with her no matter how good it would be, and no matter how much she wanted it. Trixie couldn’t come back from that, and she wouldn’t risk their friendship. So she stopped trying to get Katya to kiss her, and they never talked about that night.

It worked, put their tension on the back burner. But it didn’t bring back the little piece of Trixie’s heart that Katya had claimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will post part two next week. Please let me know what you think! I can be found on tumblr at [here](https://glitter-dyke-rights.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so as promised part 2. I accidentally wrote a little tiny part 3 that is more Katya's pov, so I will be posting that soon as well. I know the world is extra shitty this week, and I do have mixed feelings about posting, but hopefully this will be something positive for some people. If you can donate please look into black lives matter, the minnesota freedom fund, and various bail funds for protesters.

Katya has been back for two weeks and Trixie is in the shower. She’s scrubbing off her makeup from the day and letting conditioner soak in her hair, when her Bluetooth speaker cuts through her music to play the chime that means she received a text. She rushes through the rest of her shower and stands in her bathroom, wrapped in a towel, while she pulls up her conversation with Katya.

Katya  
 _tallulahhhh  
tina marie_

Trixie smiles at her phone, pleased that it’s Katya for just a moment, before shaking her head at herself. She hates when Katya texts her without actually telling her what she wants. She opens their conversation to send a reply.

Trixie  
 _I just got out of the shower.  
What do u want??_

Katya responds with a string of emojis: corn, a taco, a tongue, a peach, and several water droplets. Trixie lets out a single cackle, and covers her mouth. She’s still standing in her bathroom, dripping on the carpet, as she types out her response. 

Trixie  
 _Omg u homo  
I’m coming soon_

They’d made vague plans to hang out today, so she finishes drying off and heads to her bedroom to get dressed. She puts on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, decides to forgo a bra. She feels soft and clean, and she wants to be comfy with Katya all day - even if her _giant melon tits_ are going to be sweaty all day. She braids her wet hair to keep it out of her face, and grabs a flannel on the way out of the house. 

Trixie drives over to Katya’s, and is greeted with Katya rushing into her space, grabbing her hands and pulling her into the kitchen. She looks especially cute today, face bare, hair messy and frizzy, and glasses perched on her nose. 

“Come on Tracy, we have very important business to attend to.” 

“What are you even doing?” Trixie asks, the kitchen is a disaster. A Cuisinart sits on the counter, half filled with what looks like zucchini being shredded. 

“We have to learn how to bake zucchini bread,” Katya explains. 

Trixie is immediately confused. “You hate zucchini! I have literally never seen you willingly eat a vegetable.” 

“Yeah, I don’t like any vegetables. We one hundred percent did not get put on this earth to eat them. Remember that time I ate an entire box of fruity pebbles? I think zucchini bread is like that-” 

“You eat like a seven year old boy!” Trixie interrupts. Katya grasps her hand and lets out a huff of a laugh. 

“I know but I don’t like vegetables, I shouldn’t have to eat them! I am a woman! A woman of grace! A woman of dignity! And I will not consume things that taste bad!” she punctuates each statement by slamming her hands on the counter, and Trixie is absolutely cackling at full volume. 

“You know you don’t actually have to eat the vegetables you get,” Trixie says. She knows Katya has a neighbor who is absolutely obsessed with her, brings her vegetables from her garden every week, and Katya rarely knows what to do with them, but she won’t refuse them. 

“Well, you said you wanted to learn how to bake,” Katya says, turning back to the iPad propped up on the counter. “Here’s your chance, mama.”

“Alright fine,” Trixie says. “Let’s get into it.”

A mere thirty minutes later, the zucchini bread is in the oven. It seems to be okay, but they won't know if it’s any good until it comes out. Trixie is watching Katya from her side of the couch. She's singing tonelessly to the playlist coming out of the speaker that sits on the counter, and Trixie’s struck with a sudden gratitude for how things seem to be going with them. They spend time together whenever they can, going out for meals, and staying in to watch dumb videos on their phones until one of them passes out. Trixie likes this new version of Katya a lot. She seems happier, more settled, and she remembers everything they do together. She seems to seek out Trixie’s company, and every time shes does, the balloon of hope in Trixie’s chest fills just a little more. 

But part of her is holding back. Trixie has always known that Katya isn’t one for stability. She’s always flitting off to the next thing, having some wild fling until she gets bored or distracted. Mostly though, she’s just home. Sewing or drawing or chain smoking and thinking - the latter being something Trixie only hears about in late night texts. She would be annoyed, but it means that when she wakes up she gets to hold the warmth of Katya thinking of her at night close to her heart. Trixie has always wanted a house and a family, someone that will put her first. Trixie thought that meant Katya wouldn’t be a good match for the long term, but these days, she has been thinking maybe it’s more complicated than that.

“You know, I really like dating now. I think I am going to try to get an actual girlfriend,” Katya says, and Trixie’s vision whites out. 

“You’re what?” 

“Yeah! I’ve been thinking, and I want to try it. I think it’s time for me to _go steady with someone,_ ” she says changing the pitch of her voice for the end of her sentence. “And there’s this girl I’ve been hooking up with. Well, we hooked up like three times, you remember her, right Trix? She was the one from the bathroom of that gay club like a year ago, and I texted her the other day, and I told her about rehab and she was really cool about it, and we are gonna hang out and-”

She’s rambling, but Trixie is barely listening, she’s scrambling for a response. Katya finishes and she’s smiling at Trixie like she expects her to congratulate her or something.

“What the fuck, Katya?” she snaps and suddenly she’s standing up. Trixie can feel her face flushing, and she remembers she isn’t wearing makeup. Katya is going to _see_ her, but she can’t seem to stop herself. “I can’t do this anymore! I’m in love with you, you complete idiot!” she says. She looks at her feet, focusing on the pink wool of her socks. “I have been for years. I think about you all the time. I fucking fall asleep thinking about what it would feel like to hold your hand!” She raises her eyes to meet Katya’s. 

Katya stands up, and grasps Trixie’s wrist. Trixie’s heart starts beating in staccato. She’s terrified that Katya already knows, and she doesn’t love her back, scared it’s why they’ve never talked about it. Trixie inhales around a noise that might be a sob, and looks down her nose. She focuses on the tips of Katya’s lashes where they’re bleached from the sun, before meeting her pupils directly. Katya swipes her thumb back and forth across Trixie’s wrist comfortingly. 

“I know, honey.” Katya says into the stillness, smiling slightly. Trixie can’t help but feel like she's is laughing at her. “You aren’t subtle. I’ve been telling you that I love you for a long time. I always kiss you when you-” 

“I never-” Trixie interrupts, only to break off. There’s no point in lying about it now. Katya’s eyes crinkle fondly at her, but she doesn’t lose the tread. 

She turns more serious. “Trixie, sweetie, you never said anything. You can’t just keep stuff from me. You aren’t protecting me, you’re taking choices away from me.” Katya’s voice is careful, like she knows that Trixie isn’t going to be able to hear this unless she says it very gently. “I know I put you through it, but if you want this to work you have to trust me and believe me. This has to be a two way street, a boulevard if you will.” She pauses before meeting Trixie’s eyes. Trixie can feel her anxiety about Katya's reaction abating. “I love you too.” Trixie is squirming slightly under the intensity of Katya’s eye contact. “I just figured you knew what I know: I am an addict, and I am never going to be fully stable and reliable. Rehab isn’t a- it’s not a personality reset. You want stability. A committed relationship. You know I can’t do that. I wouldn’t want to, even if I could.”

Trixie stutters. She feels a new kind of fear rising. “I know- I just- It doesn’t change anything. I know who you are, and - it’s not like I don’t know you. I-” She takes a breath. “I am so tired of not having you,” she admits. She has to convince Katya that she's thought it out. “I want _you_. The way you are. And I want you all the time. I can’t control it. Who knows what is going to happen. And who says I know what I want out of life?” Katya is looking right at her. “All I know is right now my heart is breaking every day that I can’t have you.” Katya inhales sharply at her words. “I guess you’re right, it isn’t fair for me to have waited so long to tell you, but I am always so scared that I’m going to fuck this up, and I need you in my life. I just love you so much sometimes I don’t know what to do-”

Katya leans in slightly and Trixie’s head empties of all thought immediately.

“Are you sure?” Katya asks, and Trixie groans. 

“I swear to God, Katya, if you don’t kiss me right now I'm going to leave this house and I’m never coming back.”

Their lips meet, and she can feel Katya's grin against her mouth, but Trixie isn't fucking around. She's wanted this for so long. She lets out a muffled noise and tilts her head so their mouths line up better. Katya grabs her hips and sinks back down onto the couch, bringing Trixie with her. It’s as good as Trixie always knew it could be. They have had some bad kisses, ones where they didn’t line up right, or Katya was too out of it to really be present, but this feels right, settled. It feels like she’s unzipping herself like a duffel bag and Katya is cocooning inside. 

When they break away, Trixie gasps for breath and then she’s looking down at Katya. 

“Wait!” Trixie shouts suddenly, shattering the tension, “the zucchini bread!” 

“FUCK!” Katya responds, and they dissolve into giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tuning in, and I hope you enjoy! I can still be found [here](https://glitter-dyke-rights.tumblr.com/) and again special thanks to [beanie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanierose) for looking this over, teaching me how to format dialogue, and being kind and inspirational at all times.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really really short, but I think it adds a little something, and I wrote it so here you go. It might have more spelling/grammar errors so please lmk if it does and I will fix them lol.

Later, they’re laying in Katya’s bed, and Katya feels warm. She’s fascinated by Trixie’s body. How visibly she responds to Katya’s touch, how she pleads for another, right after Katya finishes bringing her off. Katya had come too, of course. Trixie had practically begged Katya to sit on her face.

“Hey” Trixie turns to face her, blonde hair frizzed up around her pink face, curling at her temples. “If something like that happens again, what should I do? Like how can I help?” She’s talking about the relapse. Katya sits up and turns her body to face Trixie, who is still laying on her side. 

“Honestly mama, you gotta run. Run for the hills.” Katya’s not joking, it’s the best way she can think to deal with it. 

Trixie sits up, looking alarmed. “Well, I am not gonna, like, abandon you. I’m always gonna love you. Even if this doesn’t work out,” Trixie says, gesturing between them. “I care about you so much, and I wanna have sex with you, but only as a bonus.” Katya knows this, has never thought that Trixie has only hung around to fuck her. She swallows a cackle at the implication. 

“I know you care about me, you heathen. But I mean it.” She has to make Trixie understand this. Has to protect her from what a future-Katya might do. “It’s easier if there's less carnage for me to clean up after. Next time you have to just let me do whatever crazy stuff I'm gonna do, and be there when it’s over. Or not, I suppose. It’s up to you. Your life, mama.” 

“I want to actually do something though,” Trixie says. She doesn’t understand, but Katya thinks that maybe she wants to. 

“You remember before I left for rehab, when we talked on the phone?” Trixie nods, “You said something then. I don’t know if you remember, but it stuck with me, because it was the kindest, most respectful thing,” She checks to make sure Trixie is looking at her, and then continues. “You said ‘I will be here for you when all of this is over,’ and I just remembered it so well.” Katya doesn’t have a ton of clear memories from that time, but she can still hear Trixie’s voice. Even over the phone, Trixie was obviously desperate to do something to help, and the guilt Katya felt for doing that to her was awful. It was the last time they had talked before she committed herself. In rehab, Katya had called her as soon as she got her phone privileges back. “It stuck with me while I was getting better, the whole time. You gave me grace, patience, respect, and love, and let me deal with it in my own way.” She looks up at Trixie, who has tears running down her face. 

“I didn’t think I was doing anything right,” Trixie responds wetly. 

“Oh, honey, no,” Katya reaches out and cups Trixie’s cheeks gently. Her thumbs come up to swipe under Trixie’s eyes, and she leans forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “You have to know that I love you a lot. You mean a lot to me, and I appreciate you,” she says, looking right into Trixie’s eyes. She’s still a little distracted by the way Trixie looks, fucked out, hair mussed by Katya’s hands. 

Trixie is full-on crying now. “You goddamn dyke,” Trixie responds and tackles her back onto the bed, kissing her fiercely. It’s a wet kiss, but Katya doesn’t care, deepening it, and licking into Trixie’s mouth. 

“Are we gonna go again?” she pulls back to ask, “Because I gotta do my warm up stretches” She changes her voice. “I want to fuck you Barbara,” she says, and Trixie looks murderous. 

“Shut up,” Trixie says, pushing her down and kissing her again, but Katya’s laughing, and then they’re both laughing into each other's mouths. Katya is delighted that she gets to have this knowledge of Trixie now. Knows what she sounds like when she’s being kissed, when she’s being fucked. 

“Katya,” she murmurs.

“Mhhmm?” Katya responds, and Trixie pulls back. Katya likes the way she looks looming over her. She’s pink with emotion and her head is blocking the light so the frizzy parts of her hair are glowing like she’s an angel. 

“Fuck me,” Trixie says, and Katya just laughs. She rolls them over, and reaches down again.


End file.
